


Lightning Strikes

by Oceanbourne



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Seisen no Keifu | Fire Emblem: Genealogy of the Holy War, Fire Emblem: Thracia 776
Genre: Gen, did you know there's literally no tag for fred, i think about shipping them but it's not a focus of this drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 20:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15396459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oceanbourne/pseuds/Oceanbourne
Summary: Just as a swan’s feathers did not get wet though it touched water, Ishtar showed no tears through the flood of tragedies.





	Lightning Strikes

**Author's Note:**

> I don't expect this to be very popular, but I do like Olwen and Ishtar and wanted to write them. I can see this happening to her as a conclusion to FE4 even though she's an FE5 character - something's got to happen to the Gelben Ritter, right?
> 
> This focuses a bit on the Ishtar that people see her as (the thunder goddess) and the 'real' Ishtar. Olwen sees a glimpse of her, sees a bit of her suffering, but knows that isn't the real story. But if she becomes as close as Reinhardt was to her, then she'll get to know Ishtar more. This is the premise of their relationship, and I think it could lead to a ship. But as I said it's not the focus.
> 
> Anyways I hope you enjoy, I haven't written in a bit and this was more of a little practice and experimentation than anything.

“Perhaps you’ll be granted a title. A peerage.” Fred rode on ahead to meet the sentry at the bridge, reaching into his pouch for the lightning bolt-shaped token all mage knights of Friege carried.

The tollbooth had been placed so that only one horse and rider could move through it at a time; it was impossible to assault the castle from this side. If any of Grannvale’s rival houses sought to attack Friege, it would have to come from the steeper slopes of the southern hills. Known as the ‘Thunder’s Causeway’ by the Friegan military, any army attempting to ride up those slopes would leave themselves open to a devastating barrage of lightning from the Gelben Ritter. For a century, the house of Friege considered itself impenetrable.

Until Seliph’s Liberation Army came through.

Prince Seliph, Scion of Light, son of Sigurd the Crusader, was a bearer of hope for the people of the Grannvale Empire, worked to the bone by its noble houses. The cult of Loptyr and the bishop Manfroy may have sat at the top of that cruel pyramid, but it was the nobles who spouted orders and forced people to capitulate. Houses like Dozel and Jungby, and Friege herself, a rag-torn puppet dancing in the devil’s hand.

Olwen followed after Fred, displaying her own lightning bolt to the guard. The man inclined his head, signalling for the gate to open. “Lady Olwen. Her Royal Highness is looking forward to your visit.”

She murmured a “Thank you” and passed through the gate, riding up alongside Fred. He wore a royal blue cape over his doublet rather than his ordinary red, and his boots were painted black deerskin leather, a pair he’d bought in Miletos. She looked down at her dark blue frock - the standard uniform for mage knights in her division. Had she underdressed for the occasion? Or was Fred just excited?

“It’s nothing that extravagant, Fred.” Olwen brushed a few stray locks of her hair out of the way as they approached the castle. The fields around Friege had little grass, mostly dirt-filled land with narrow columns of trees growing in parallel lines. With all the thunder spells being thrown around, small fires inevitably scorched the ground during military drills. The castle did little to stop this razing of the land - the conjuring of thunder and lightning was an integral part of their identity.

“It’s probably just some reassignment of our squadron,” Olwen continued. They rode their horses to the stables at the side of the castle, handing them off to a groom, before dismounting. Olwen didn’t see many other horses in the stalls. Maybe Lady Ishtar wasn’t expecting many visitors today?

“If so, then she wouldn’t need to address you in private.” Fred adjusted his cloak, straightening up. Olwen couldn’t help but smirk. He wasn’t the one Ishtar had requested to see, yet he treated the visit as if he was riding into the palace to be knighted by the empress herself.

“I’m sure she has good reasons for it.” They made their way towards a side passage, where a door emblazoned with mosaics depicting the Miracle at Darna on its marble surface was located. “Lady Ishtar probably doesn’t want much company these days. She has enough to handle already.”

Fred hummed. “You have a point.” With a turn of his boot, he gave a quick salute and started to leave. “But… if anything happens, just let me know if I have to address you as ‘Baroness Olwen!’” She rolled her eyes, but smiled and waved as he disappeared behind a corner. Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door and entered the castle.

An entire household destroyed. Friege had fallen to House Velthomer’s influence since the days of Duke Reptor, and Hilda’s arrangement of marriage between the imperial prince and Ishtar had only dug the trench deeper. Prince Seliph must’ve seen the unrest coming from the hole left after the final holy war, because he acted quick to try to prop up House Friege. He didn’t just pardon Ishtar - he gave her control of the duchy, as the only surviving member of its dynasty.

The people rioted.

House Friege had a loyal following, and its guard was made up of soldiers who had served for decades, and their fathers and mothers before them. But the people didn’t want Ishtar, after they learned that Julius had become a vessel of Loptyr. The dark god tainted her, they claimed. She had fought against the Liberation Army with Julius several times, cutting a swath of destruction with every strike of MJolnir. How could Seliph and Julia let her keep power, after all that?

Olwen figured they knew something the populace didn’t. And she believed Lady Ishtar was innocent, too. When she searched through Reinhardt’s belongings after returning to Friege, she saw the letters she had written to him. The fruitless struggles she fought in trying to save the children while Julius had his back turned. How she couldn’t sleep in fear of the ‘games’ Julius wanted to play with her.

“Lady Olwen?”

One of the household butlers appeared in front of her, prompting her out of her reverie.

“The duchess will see you now. Follow me, if you please.”

* * *

 

Ishtar reminded Olwen of a swan. Her grace did not leave her when she returned to Friege under the watchful eye of the Liberation Army. Her grace did not leave her when she took up the mantle of head of House Friege over her father’s gravestone. But just as a swan’s feathers did not get wet though it touched water, Ishtar showed no tears through the flood of tragedies.

When Olwen entered the room, it seemed like a dam had broken.

Ishtar was turned away, sitting in her chair and hunched over. Her shoulders heaved, and a handkerchief covered her face. Olwen stood there, not daring to move. Was this a bad time? Should she come back later? Her head inched to the side, gaze turning towards the door, when Ishtar spoke.

“Have a seat, Olwen.” Her voice was not one stricken with grief, not laced with self-pity or burdened with anxiety. It carried the resolve of the crusaders, the strength of one Friege had named the goddess of thunder. But when Ishtar lifted her eyes to face her, Olwen saw the pain around her eyelids, the redness from the tears that spilled in silence.

“You wanted to see me.” If Ishtar was concerned about showing weakness in front of her, she didn’t show it. And if she wanted to let her walls down around Olwen, she’d let her know.

Ishtar drew her chair closer, straightening up. Her hair fell in messy tangles down her sides. Usually she had it styled into a ponytail on the side or a high bouffant when she spent time in the imperial palace. She had to dress her best for Julius. For the illusion of union between the two houses.

“I’m tired.” Her gaze fell to the side as it wavered from Olwen. “I shouldn’t lie to you about it. There’s just-” She sighed, placing her hand on the desk between them. “So much to be done, and I… didn’t expect having to do it alone.” Ishtar’s hands were shaking. Olwen held her gaze as best she could, but her mind was racing. Should she offer condolences, sympathy? Was Ishtar looking for a shoulder to lean on, or was she getting to the point?

“It is a heavy burden to bear, my lady.”

“Your brother served me for many years. He advised me on many issues - I know I would never have achieved half of what I have without his aid.” Ishtar’s eyes turned away again, and this time Olwen could tell they were nursing sincere sorrow. “I heard how he fell at the River Thracia. You have my sympathy.”

Olwen tensed up. “It’s… alright. We made our peace. I chose my path, and he seemed… glad for it.”

Ishtar nodded. “And he chose his own. Everything he did, he did for my sake. I imagine the Gelben Ritter caused Lord Leif’s army many difficulties. I am sorry.”

 _It’s not your fault_ , Olwen wanted to say, but she couldn’t get her lips to move. “I…”

“That brings me to the point I wanted to make today, actually.” Ishtar cleared her throat. “I don’t wish to keep you long. The Ritter needs rebuilding. I would like to name you commander, and lead this effort.”

Olwen almost fell backwards in her seat. “Me?” She gestured to herself, eyes widening. She knew her skills had increased during the Thracian campaign, but- “I don’t think…”

“The people need someone to rally behind.” Ishtar turned to look at the window, sighing. “You fought with the Liberation Army. You worked to save hundreds of lives from the Loptyrian cult. A truly… noble calling.” Her shoulders fell, and she turned to look at Olwen again. “I know Prince Leif will support you, at the very least.”

Blinking a few times, Olwen continued to stare at Ishtar. She looked resolute.

_If I can help her…_

Olwen nodded. “Then I accept this honor. I will defend Friege with both spell and sword.” She shifted in her chair, her fingers tapping the armrest. “The Ritter.” She thought back. Three dozen cavalry fell on those bloody banks. “From what I saw… it was nearly wiped out.”

“Correct. It will need some time to be rebuilt. We may need to take in mage knights from other districts.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Olwen thought she saw the ghost of a smile on Ishtar’s haggard face. “I am sure you will make an incredible commander.” She expected to hear “Like your brother before you,” but Ishtar made no mention of him. Perhaps she did not want to bring up their shared loss again.

If she was being honest with herself, Olwen was glad. She didn’t need any more comparisons to Reinhardt. Their paths had diverged. Her tale was just beginning, while his had ended. She was her own person.

“I’ll make you proud, Lady Ishtar.” Olwen paused. She wanted to say more, to let her know that she understood her difficult position. “I… want to see you succeed.” _You’ve been given a second chance and I know you won’t squander it. I don’t want to see it all taken away again._ “Friege has lost much… but it still is blessed with a woman like you.”

Ishtar tried to smile, and Olwen recognized the sentiment, even as it appeared like a hollow curve on brittle skin. “You honor me more than you realize, Olwen.”

It was her turn to let out a nervous smile, and Olwen sat there in silence, wringing her hands. She should have said something - but nothing was coming to mind.

“Right.” The iridescent, formidable face of Friege’s ‘goddess’ had returned. Olwen sat up in her chair. “To the matter of your position. You will need new equipment, horses, tomes…”

Olwen nodded as Ishtar laid out her responsibilities, but it dawned on her that the real privilege was not becoming the head of the Gelben Ritter. It was the position as her right-hand man, her knight of thunder.

Many could look upon her, revere her in wonder and awe. But few could see past the storm, past the clouds and the rain and see the skies behind it all.


End file.
